


Bauhaus

by rainbowdracula



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Aftercare, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Sugar Daddy, Alternate Universe - Vampire, BDSM, Biting, Cunnilingus, Deepthroating, Goth Keith (Voltron), Goths, M/M, Masturbation, Semi-Public Sex, Sexting, Sugar Daddy, Trans Keith (Voltron), Vaginal Fingering, Vampire Shiro (Voltron), Vampires, afab language, background Pidge/Hunk
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-20
Updated: 2018-09-22
Packaged: 2019-07-14 15:39:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16043459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainbowdracula/pseuds/rainbowdracula
Summary: When Keith's roommate Allura drags him out to the hip goth club known as the Crypt, he expected an uncomfortable, sweaty night. He did not expect to meet Shiro. Shiro, rich and endless, didn't expect to meet Keith either.Or: Keith gets a vampire as his sugar daddy.





	1. I. We Hunger

**Author's Note:**

> Posting this late because it's so h*rny.
> 
> Title from the legendary band. Chapter title from the Siouxsie and the Banshees song.

The club was loud, sweaty, and overall a place Keith didn’t want to be.

“Allura,” he hissed at her, but Allura didn’t listen to him, dragging him even further into the horrifically named _Crypt._

Keith’s ideal Friday night would’ve been spent in his room under a pile of blankets, watching obscure foreign language horror movies. Then Allura burst in, dressed to the nines in black, and declared that they were going dancing. Keith was helpless to say no to her after weeks of sad, post-breakup Allura, willing to make sacrifices for her to get her groove back.

He just wished that Allura hadn’t dressed him. She dug into the dark depths of Keith’s closet and pulled out stuff Keith didn’t even know he had. The leggings she found had faux corset lacings up to the waistband, revealing pale skin and preventing him from wearing underwear, a fact Keith was _very_ aware of. The shirt was black and silky, not quite a crop top. At least his makeup was simple, the standard heavy dark eyeshadow and eyeliner.

The Crypt was darkly lit by Cthulhu-looking lamps, the ceiling made of broken pieces of mirrors. The rest of the floors and walls were shiny black tile. It was full of pale faced, heavily made-up goths dressed in black leather and PVC, moving to the droning beat of goth electronic music. It was absurdly packed and hot, not helped by the pleather and vinyl.

“Let’s do a shot,” Allura declared, a wild glint in her eye. She got the bartender’s attention and ordered some sort of unholy black vodka shot. They each took one and locked arms together. “Fuck boys.”

“Fuck boys,” Keith agreed, and they downed the shots.

The music was brooding, droning out rational thought. Allura pulled Keith into the heart of the dancefloor for some listless goth dancing, sweat quickly drenching the both of them. They danced together for a turn, but the crowd pressed in, slowly driving them further apart until Keith popped out by the bar, thirsty and tired. There was an empty spot at the bar and he sat down at it; he pondered ordering a beer.

“Can I get you a beer?”

The voice was deep and rich, making Keith look up. His heart stuttered.

He was tall and broad, tight T-shirt and jeans showing off his musculature. He had an unusual blackout tattoo completely covering his right arm. Keith swallowed and answered, “Sure.”

The man sat beside Keith and flagged down the bartender. “A pint of imperial stout for my friend, please.”

The bartender went to fetch the requested drink. The man offered his hand to Keith. “Shiro.”

“Keith,” he replied, taking Shiro’s hand. Instead of shaking it, Shiro kissed his knuckles, making Keith go scarlet. Shiro let go of Keith’s hand and Keith’s beer arrived. Keith quickly started drinking it to hide his fluster.

“What brings you here?” Shiro asked.

“Um, my friend,” Keith said. “I’ve lost her, though.”

“I’m sure you’ll find her again. What do you do?”

“Oh, I’m a student,” Keith said. “And work at the university bookstore.”

“What do you study?” Shiro asked. His smile was soft, eyes warm but still bored deep into Keith’s soul.

“Japanese history and language,” Keith answered.

Shiro’s face brightened even more. “That’s something we have common.”

Conversation flowed easily after that, or as easy as it could in the loud club. Shiro’s hand found its way to Keith’s thigh, fingers touching his bare skin through the lacings, and Keith did not mind. They were completely turned towards one another, drawing each other deeper into their own little world. Keith glanced up past Shiro’s (wide, wide) shoulders to see Allura flashing him a grin and thumbs-up. Keith looked away, flushed.

“Do you want to go somewhere a bit quieter?” Shiro asked. “It’s a bit loud in here.”

“Yeah,” Keith said. “I’d love to.”

They got up, Shiro’s big and cool hand spreading across on the small of Keith’s back. They weaved through the club and out the exit into the freezing night air, making Keith shiver. Shiro’s hand slid down to Keith’s hip, thumb slipping under Keith’s shirt and stroking the bare skin. Keith looked up at Shiro from beneath his lashes.

“You’re gorgeous,” Shiro murmured. “I spotted you and took my breath away.”

Keith bit his lip. “You too.”

Shiro bent down and kissed Keith, hands encircling Keith’s waist. Keith wrapped his arms around Shiro’s neck and kissed him back. It quickly grew intense, messy, Shiro’s fervor bending Keith back.

Shiro pulled away, face almost feral, and ushered Keith deep into a side alley, cast in shadows. Keith was pressed up against the wall and he shuddered, squeezing his legs together eagerly – he had never done something like this before. Shiro pressed up against Keith’s back. Keith felt his hard cock against his ass, and Keith ground back against it, making Shiro growl. One of his big hands shoved under Keith’s shirt, squeezing his breast and pinching his nipple. The other hand slipped into Keith’s leggings, rubbing his mound.

“No underwear, huh?” Shiro murmured in his ear. “Naughty.”

Keith simply moaned in response, palms flat on the brickwork. Shiro pressed two calloused fingers against Keith’s clit, massaging it with slow, powerful movements. The nails of his other hand dug into Keith’s tit, leaving little crescent marks. Keith humped between Shiro’s fingers and his hard cock trapped in his jeans, not caring who heard his whines and moans on the street.

“I want your cock,” Keith said. Shiro pressed his thick fingers inside Keith’s wet heat, rubbing against his g-spot. He kissed Keith’s neck and sucked a bruise there, lavishing the hickey with attention.

“Soon,” Shiro promised. “You’re so wet.”

Keith rocked against Shiro’s hand, his palm stimulating his clit and his fingers stimulating his g-spot. He threw his hand back to grab at Shiro’s hair, tossing his head back and screaming as he orgasmed, gushing over Shiro’s fingers. He went limp, panting, his leggings pushed down to midthigh and his shirt pushed up his chin. Shiro held Keith up easily, his cock still hard.

“Let me take you home,” Shiro said. He readjusted Keith’s clothes to something a bit more presentable and helped him back on to the street towards a sleek black sports car, windows darkly tinted. Shiro opened the passenger door for him and Keith slipped into the leather interior, cushioned by the plush chair. Shiro got into the driver’s side and peeled out toward Uptown.

Shiro’s grip on the wheel was white knuckle. Keith was already starting to burn up again, squirming in his seat. He couldn’t take it anymore and pushed his hand into his leggings, stroking across his clit. Shiro rumbled deep in his throat, glancing at Keith from the corner of his eye. Keith pulled up his shirt and rubbed himself with intense vigor as Shiro weaved through traffic. He panted, the rumbling of the powerful car adding to the pleasure.

Finally, Shiro pulled up to a hotel and said, “We’re here.”

Keith adjusted himself. Shiro got out of the car and opened the passenger door for Keith. A valet was waiting for them, accepting the key from Shiro. Keith recognized the hotel – the Octopus was one of the most expensive and fanciest in the city. The hotel was imposing in its Victorian splendor, with a tall set of stairs leading up to the sepia-toned glass doors. People dressed in fine clothes bustled about, and a man in a suit opened the door for them.

“Are you visiting the city?” Keith asked.

“No,” Shiro said. “I live here.”

“You live in the Octopus?” Keith whispered. He got the impression that Shiro was wealthy, but living in a luxury hotel wealthy? “Where?”

“You’ll see,” Shiro said cryptically.

The Octopus’s entrance was dominated by the huge atrium, stretching up nine stories to a glass room. It was an eclectic patchwork of ornate Victorian luxury, with colorful lamps and plush elaborate furniture, far from the stripped-down postage-stamp apartment he shared with Allura and Pidge. The floor was a brightly colored mosaic, their boots clicking against it.

“Good evening, Mister Shirogane,” the receptionist said as they passed. “Will you or your guest be needing anything this evening?”

“No thank you,” Shiro said. Keith felt judgmental eyes on him and his clubbing clothes, feeling cheap and exposed.

Shiro took him one of the elevators that lined the entrance and they rode it all the way up the nine-story hotel, Shiro’s hand on his waist. The initial excitement was fading into surprise at himself – Keith wasn’t the type for one-night stands, or heavy petting in alleys, or hooking up with dudes who live in luxury hotels. He looked up at Shiro, and in the hotel’s brighter lights he looked pale, the shadows on his face chiaroscuro in their intensity. This wasn’t unusual for goth dudes, but it didn’t seem like Shiro was wearing much makeup.

The elevator doors dinged open on the topmost floor, right beneath the glass ceiling. Keith followed Shiro up a side staircase to a heavy wooden door Shiro opened with an old-fashioned key. Beyond it was a sprawling terrace overlooking the city, decorated with wrought iron furniture and elegantly maintained plants. Keith raced to the edge to look at the sparkling city unfurling below, the cars and people very far away; Shiro put up the do not disturb sign on the door.

“Wow!” Keith exclaimed. “This is amazing.”

Shiro chuckled, hugging Keith from behind. “Just wait until you see the penthouse.”

Shiro took Keith’s hand and led him to the door of the turret penthouse, which he unlocked as well. The turret was resplendent in its Queen Anne architecture. The furniture, like the rest of the hotel, was Victorian and expensive, with fine art on the walls and a full marble wet bar. A dark wood staircase led up to a loft, and from the dramatically vaulted ceiling dropped a white crystal chandelier. The curtains were drawn tight.

“It’s wonderful,” Keith agreed, turning back to Shiro. He let out a yelp when Shiro swept him up into his arms and bridal carried him up the stairs to the bedroom loft.

The bed was king-sized and surrounded by a dark canopy. Shiro put Keith down and then sat on the end of the bed, stripping off his shirt. His torso was _cut,_ his abs chiseled from marble. Keith stumbled over the vicious-looking scars lacing his skin, but he did his best to hide his reaction.

“I want to see you,” Shiro said, and Keith immediately caught his implication.

Keith never stripped like this before in front of any of his previous long-term boyfriends and had no idea where to start. He bent at the waist to unlace his boots and toe them off; he took his socks off as quickly as possible, as there was no way to make taking off socks sexy. Keith straightened up and looked back at Shiro, who seemed to still be into it. He took his shirt off and pinched his nipples into stiff peaks, biting his lip. Shiro rested his arms against his thighs, leaning closer, his eyes burning with lust.

Emboldened, Keith turned around and pushed his leggings down with an exaggerated bend. He kicked the leggings aside and turned back around, prickling with the electric shock of Shiro’s attention. Instead of feeling exposed or embarrassed, Keith felt emboldened by Shiro’s attention, sexy and desired.

“How do you want me?” Keith asked as sultry as he could manage. Shiro grinned and unzipped his pants. This, at least, was something Keith knew how to do.

He knelt between Shiro’s legs and pulled out Shiro’s cock. It was long and thick with an attractive bend. Keith licked the length of it before putting just the head in his mouth and sucking. Shiro weaved his fingers through Keith’s silky hair, fisting it tightly. Slowly, he helped Keith swallow more and more until it was buried in his throat and Keith could take it without choking. Shiro started moving Keith’s head by his hair, driving it harder and harder until drool was dripping from the corners of his mouth and black tears streaked down his cheeks. Keith was dripping wet, surrendering to whatever Shiro wanted to do him.

Shiro groaned, nails digging into Keith’s scalp. His powerful chest heaved, with a deep rumbling coming from it. Finally, he pulled Keith off and, keeping a firm grip on Keith’s hair, came over Keith’s face. Keith closed his eyes and opened his mouth, ecstatic.

Keith was gently lifted by his shoulders and placed on the bed, legs akimbo. Shiro bent down over him and cleaned off his face with his tongue, ending with a wet, messy kiss. Shiro pulled away, leaving Keith panting. Shiro moved his attentions down to Keith’s nipples. He suckled and bit, leaving dark bruises and red toothmarks. Keith moaned, head tossed back with a wide smile, and he hitched his long legs around Shiro’s waist. Due to his slim stature, a lot of guys didn’t want to be rough with him.

Shiro, clearly, had no such hang-ups.

“You’re so fucking sexy,” Shiro rumbled. “I’m going to fuck you until you can’t walk anymore.”

He grabbed both of Keith’s legs and hooked them over his shoulders. Shiro buried his face in Keith’s wet pussy, licking his engorged clit and making Keith kick his heels into his back. His thick fingers quickly joined his tongue, rubbing Keith’s g-spot with single-minded devotion. Keith wailed, clutching at Shiro’s hair.

Keyed up already, it took little to get Keith to come, squirting over Shiro’s fingers and mouth, whole body shaking. Shiro pulled away, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Keith slumped into the plush mattress, panting. Shiro reared back up and flipped Keith over, face down and ass up. Keith heard some rustling and then Shiro’s big hands spanned over his waist, his thick cock pressing inside Keith’s wet heat, stretching him wide. Keith moaned, and he thrust back against Shiro’s dick.

Shiro snarled, pressing Keith down into the mattress with a firm grasp on the back of the neck. Keith went limp like a kitten. Shiro didn’t bother taking it slow, hammering his thick cock into Keith, and Keith loved it, arching his hips and spreading his legs wide. He was moaning and smiling, whole body aching in the best way. Shiro settled against Keith’s back, mouth next to his ear. Keith gripped the sheets, panting in time with Shiro, desperately trying to keep up with his jackhammering.

“Next time I’m going to tie you up,” Shiro grumbled. “You’d look so good with red rope and some clamps on those cute tits. Keep you dripping and coming every day.”

Keith wailed. Shiro kissed the crook of Keith’s neck, and then bit into the soft skin, piercing it like needles. Keith’s mind went blank, and then bliss crashed over him like an avalanche.

His vision was white, his orgasm rolling on and on and leaving him shaking, trembling, unable to do anything but scream. Shiro kept going, stretching Keith even further and further until he finally passed out, unable to take it.

Keith became aware of the world again slowly, hearing a bathtub being filled. He was alone in the bed, naked body covered by a sheet. Footsteps echoed up the stairs, and Shiro appeared, gloriously nude.

“Good, you’re up,” Shiro said. “I’ve run a bath. And ordered dessert.”

Is this what it was like being a sugar baby? He could tell why people did this. “Thank you.”

Keith tried to get up, but his legs were so shaky he almost fell over. Shiro was there in an instant, scooping Keith back into his arms and carrying him downstairs to the awaiting tub. On a table beside it was chocolate and expresso ice cream, topped with whipped cream and shredded chocolate, in a tall glass.

They got into the warm water of the tub, Keith’s back pressed against Shiro’s chest. Shiro grabbed a spoon and got a large scoop of ice cream to feed to Keith. Keith closed his eyes and let himself sink into the warm decadence.


	2. PART II - She's A Killer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from the song by Alien Sex Fiend.

Keith woke up sore, from his legs to his chest.

The canopy was drawn close and he was naked under a pile of plush linen. Keith sat up and looked down at himself. The light creeping through the canopy was enough to illuminate the bruises and bitemarks covering him, especially around his nipples. Keith blushed, unable to believe what he did last night.

Someone walked up the steps and the canopy parted to Shiro’s smiling face, a robe folded over one of his arms. He was dressed in a pair of black sweatpants, and nothing else. “Good morning. I ordered breakfast.”

“Good morning,” Keith replied. Shiro handed him the robe. “Thank you.”

“It’s downstairs on the table,” Shiro said, and left. Keith put on the robe and slipped out of the bed, tying it close. All the curtains were closed tightly – blackout curtains, Keith noted. He descended the stairs and walked to the nook where the table was. Shiro sat on one end with the newspaper and smiled bashfully. “I didn’t know what you wanted, so I got a bit of everything.”

Indeed, the table was overflowing with breakfast foods. Bacon, ham, eggs, delicate French pastries, fresh ripe fruit, bright white whipped cream, steam escaping from a silver coffee pot. An elaborate, gold-painted teapot and matching teacup were beside Shiro, fragrant jasmine joining the rest of the breakfast smells. Keith sat at the opposite table and picked an omelet, some bacon, fruit, and an English muffin, smothered in jam. He poured himself of the coffee, with a splash of cream.

“This is so good,” Keith said mournfully. Shiro peered over his newspaper at Keith.

“I’m glad,” Shiro said. “I’ve had the hotel launder your clothes. They’ll be done soon, and I’ll have a car get you home.”

“Oh, I can get an Uber,” Keith protested. Shiro just raised an eyebrow, and Keith immediately let that thought go.

“Ah, your phone was on the floor,” Shiro said. He put his paper down and went to pick up Keith’s phone from the wet bar. “Your friend Allura is very concerned about you.”

Keith took the phone from Shiro and unlocked it. He had three missed calls and about five million unread texts from Allura.

_Get that d Keith!!!!!!!!_

_Where are u????? Pls let me know so I know where to send the police_

_Hello????_

_Are u ok?????_

_Call me!!!!!!! I’m going to call missing persons_

_Did u get murdered????_

Allura was probably going to call his mother next, which Keith wanted to prevent at all costs. He quickly texted back, _I’m ok! I’m at the Octopus having breakfast, I’ll be back soon._

Allura responded quickly: _Oh thank God. He’s staying at the Octopus? Did u bang a Rockstar???_

_He LIVES at the Octopus. I’ll explain later._

_!!!!!!!!!!!!!!_

Keith set the phone aside. Shiro chuckled.

“I like her,” Shiro said.

Keith finished up his breakfast right when housekeeping knocked on the door to return his clean, folded clothes. Shiro handed them to Keith, and Keith scuttled off into the bathroom to take a shower.

The showerhead was detachable and powerful, the pounding hot water relaxing against his sore muscles. Keith gleefully stole the fancy shampoo, conditioners, and soaps, coming out of the shower smelling like cedar and musk. He looked at himself in the shower, pinked and bruised and clearly well-fucked. He reached for a comb to brush through his messy bedhead but paused.

On the crook of his neck was a deep, vicious bitemark, bruised and red. When Keith touched it, it stung. Shiro _was_ into some rough stuff, Keith thought, and got dressed.

Shiro was waiting for him outside the bathroom, a black sweater in his hand. “It’s cold out, borrow this.”

“You shouldn’t have—” Keith began, but Shiro pressed the sweater into his arms. Keith suspected stopping Shiro from spoiling from him was an impossible task. The sweater was cashmere and impossibly soft, huge on him.

“I’ll give you my number,” Shiro said. “We can arrange for you to give me my sweater back.”

He winked. Keith could get behind another night like this.

They swapped numbers, and Shiro gave him a surprisingly soft kiss.

“Go downstairs to the front desk and give them your name,” Shiro said. “The car will be right up for you.”

“Okay,” Keith said. He looked up at Shiro through his eyelashes. “Will I see you soon?”

Shiro tucked Keith’s hair behind his ear. “Of course.”

Keith went downstairs to the counter and gave his name. Sure enough, he was swept out to a luxurious black Lexus parked in front of the hotel. The driver wore a pressed black suit and opened the door for Keith. He rattled off his address, far from the sleek hotels and condos surrounding the Octopus, and the driver set off without a word.

Keith’s building was a shoddy walkup right next to campus, full of students that spared a second glance at the Lexus parked in front of it. They outright stared when the driver opened the door for Keith, and Keith rushed to get inside as soon as possible after a quick “thank you” to the driver.

His apartment was on the corner of the third floor, tiny yet still managing to squeeze three bedrooms in. He shared it with Allura and Pidge, and they plastered the walls with band and horror movie posters, black lace tacked over the plastic blinds. They didn’t use the harsh overhead lights in favor of the white Christmas lights tacked along the perimeter of the rooms, and they had gone ham on the second-hand dark rugs over the beige carpets. Keith unlocked the door and stepped into the tiny living room. On the couch sat Pidge and Allura, set up for an intervention. They managed to be intimidating despite being in their hangover pajamas.

“Um,” Keith said, slowly closing the door behind him. “Hi.”

“Keith Kogane,” Allura intoned. “Who did you fuck last night?”

“Uh,” Keith said. “His name’s Shiro? He was really nice.”

“The cheapest room at the Octopus is four fifty a night,” Pidge said, looking at her laptop. “But he was not _living_ in the Superior Queen, was he?”

Keith winced. “No. He was in the, um, penthouse in the turrets.”

Allura’s eyes went wide. Pidge typed rapidly. “That’s like…seven thousand a night.”

“ _Who did you fuck last night?_ ” Allura repeated. “Do you know how hard it is to get a hotel to agree to a permanent residency?”

Allura would know about that, Keith thought. While she didn’t ever act like it, her family wasn’t exactly hurting for cash.

“I don’t know!” Keith exclaimed. He sunk into the armchair kitty-corner from the couch. “I just thought he was a hot dude and then he turned out to be crazy rich.”

Pidge sighed. “This shit only happens to you. Why can’t we all find wealthy boyfriends?”

“Hunk cooks, cleans, and talks about his feelings,” Allura snapped. “You have no right to complain.”

She turned back to Keith. “Was he good?”

Keith sighed dreamily. “It was _so_ good. I got his number, too.”

“Sugar baby Keith,” Pidge teased. “I didn’t know you had it in you.”

Keith stuck his tongue out.

The buzzer went off, startling the trio.

“It’s probably Hunk,” Pidge said. “He didn’t tell me he was coming over.”

Keith got up off the chair and went over to the buzzer, pressing the button for the intercom. “Hello?”

“Is this Keith Kogane’s apartment?” a smooth, professional voice asked. “We have a delivery.”

“Um, this is him,” Keith said. He looked back at Pidge and Allura, who were as confused as him. “I’ll let you up…”

He pressed the other button to unlock the front entrance to the apartment and turned towards his roommates. “Are we about to get murdered?”

“I don’t think so,” Allura said. “But I also feel like I should get my pepper spray.”

There was a knock at the door and Keith opened it a crack. Out in the hall were two smartly dressed dudes carrying slim white boxes.

“Mister Kogane?” the head deliveryman asked. “We have some gifts from Mister Shirogane.”

Keith let them in, and they laid out a pile of the white boxes on to their rickety kitchen table while him, Allura, and Pidge watched, wide-eyed. With the boxes gently placed down, the head deliveryman bowed and presented a creamy white envelope to Keith. His name was written on it in elegant calligraphy and there was a legitimate wax seal closing it. “Have a good day, Mister Kogane.”

The deliverymen left. Keith opened the letter.

_Some things for our date next Saturday._

_Best,_

_Takashi Shirogane_

Pidge opened the top box and pulled out a suit jacket the color of blood, shining in its quality. She whistled and said, “What did you let this man do to you?”

“The sugar baby Keith era is going to be killer,” Allura declared. “Do you think he’ll get us concert tickets?”

“You guys suck,” Keith said, quickly gathering all the packages and fleeing to his room before they could say anything more, slamming the door shut behind him.

He dumped the packages on his bed and began to sort through them. There was the accoutrement of a three-piece suit – the red suit jacket, black pants, white shirt, black dress shoes – all high quality and all fitting him perfectly. The other packages had a long black peacoat, perfect for the coming winter, and an Alexander McQueen sweater with the trademark cable skull on the front. Keith’s mouth was agape. His phone buzzed.

_I hope you like your presents._

Keith quickly texted back, _I love them! You really shouldn’t have._

 _I want to see you in the sweater,_ Shiro simply said. Keith thought it was a bit weird but reached to pull on the sweater. The phone buzzed again – _just the sweater._

Oh. Keith knew this game.

He locked the door.

Right across from Keith’s narrow twin was a full-length mirror, perfect for his purposes. Keith stripped down and slipped on the sweater, falling just to his upper thigh. He posed on the bed so his long legs were on full display and snapped a picture. He laid down on the bed and sent it to Shiro; he got a response back immediately.

_Beautiful._

Emboldened, Keith took another picture of himself laying down, sweater riding up. Shiro’s response was even faster.

_You can’t even imagine the things I want to do to you._

Keith spread his legs and started touching himself with ghostlike movements. _Try me._

_I’ve picked out some nice rope and clamps for Saturday night. Plus some extra surprises._

He touched himself harder, rougher. _Can you give me some hints?_

_Just things a good boy needs. Are you touching yourself right now?_

_Yeah_

_Show me._

Keith flipped to his camera and switched to video. He held his phone as steady as he could as he filmed himself masturbating, fingers a blur as he rubbed. Keith exaggerated his pants and moans for Shiro’s benefit, but only a little. He stopped the video and sent it to Shiro but didn’t stop touching himself.

_Gorgeous baby. Are you going to come for me?_

_I want to come for you_

_Then come._

Keith took another video, hips bucking up and legs squeezing together as he orgasmed at Shiro’s command, biting his lip to keep his noises down. His chest heaved in the afterglow, fingers shaking as he sent it off to Shiro.

_You’re so good to me baby. I can’t wait to make you scream._

 

-

 

Saturday evening. Keith took a shower and washed his hair, letting the conditioner soak in like Allura was always telling him to do and put on the face mask Pidge gave him from a BOGO deal. While that was soaking in, he laid out the suit Shiro had gotten him on his bed and examined it – finely woven wool, dyed scarlet red, paired with a thin linen shirt and tightly tailored black pants. The shoes were so polished Keith could see his face in them.

He washed the face mask off and moisturized.

It was a bit unnerving how well the suit fit him, emphasizing his trim waist and long legs. He did some basic makeup – concealer, eyeliner, some contour – and sat at his desk, fidgeting. There was a knock at the door, and Allura peeked her head in.

“Looking good,” Allura said. “Where are you guys going, anyway?”

“Dinner, not sure where,” Keith said. “He’s picking me up at seven.”

Allura frowned. She stepped fully into the room and shut the door behind her.

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” Allura said. “I’m worried. Guys like that can be real assholes if you don’t do what they want, you know.”

Allura would know.

“I don’t think Shiro’s like that,” Keith assured. “But thank you for caring.”

Allura smiled and hugged Keith close; Keith hugged her back.

“If he starts paying your rent, we can start going to better bars,” Allura said. “So, I hope having a sugar daddy works out for you.”

“You know I’d pay for our drinks in a heartbeat,” Keith said. “I’ll try to finesse an open tab at the Batcave.”

“You’re the best,” Allura declared.

At seven sharp, Shiro texted Keith that he was downstairs, and Keith left. In the living room, Pidge and Allura gave him a thumbs up. Keith flushed and locked the door behind him.

The car was the hotel’s Lexus, and the door opened for him. Shiro was smiling in the backseat, and gave Keith a kiss when he got in.

“You look lovely,” Shiro said. He was dressed in a sleek, all-black suit that emphasized the broadness of his shoulders.

“Thank you,” Keith said. “Where are we going?”

“Oh, it’s a surprise.”

The car drove uptown to where posh apartment buildings and elite popup restaurants dwelled, giving another hint of where they were going. Shiro kept his big hand spanned over Keith’s thigh, and Keith tentatively covered it with his own.

The car parked, and Keith peered out to see the bright white façade of Restaurant Marcus, one of the most expensive and exclusive restaurants in the city.

“How did you get a table here?” Keith whispered to Shiro. “These tables get reserved months in advance.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Shiro assured.

The driver opened the door for them. Shiro got out first and helped Keith out, then offered his arm. Keith took it and they went up the steps to the plate glass doors into Marcus, opened for them by another man in a no-frills suit.

The restaurant reminded Keith of a Grecian temple, with white walls and black floors, pillars twined with beautiful garlands of flowers. The hostess greeted them with a smile.

“Welcome to Restaurant Daniel,” she said.

“Hello,” Shiro said. “Reservations for Shirogane.”

“Oh!” the hostess said and turned to gesture at a waiter. “Good evening, Mister Shirogane. Lewis will take you to your table.”

Lewis bowed his head and gestured for them to follow. They wove through the white-clothed tables where well-dressed people murmured over delicate dishes. They passed by empty tables but didn’t stop at any of them; instead, they went to a pair of French doors, hidden off in a corner. Beyond them was a small room with a table set for two, decorated with fine art and sweet-smelling flowers. Shiro pulled Keith’s chair out for him before sitting opposite.

“My name is Lewis, and Restaurant Marcus is excited to present our seven-course tasting menu,” the waiter said. “Our first course will be the poularde and foie gras mosaic with peppercress salad and plum coulis.”

Keith didn’t know what most of those words meant. Lewis left, closing the door behind him, and Keith leaned over the table.

“Seven courses?” Keith said. “That’s, like, a lot of food.”

“You’d be surprised,” Shiro said. “How was your week?”

“I read a lot of Noh plays,” Keith said. Shiro’s face brightened in interest.

“Oh?” Shiro asked. “Did you enjoy them?”

When Lewis and another waiter arrived with the first course, Shiro and Keith were deep in an animated discussion about Japanese theatre. Lewis placed the plate in front of Keith and poured a matching glass of wine. Just as Shiro said, the proportions weren’t that big, and their odd setup made it look like there was more food than there actually was.

That first dish set up the next six courses of strange, elaborate, and fancy dishes, packed with flavors and ingredients Keith had never tasted before. It was pretty good, but Keith much preferred the easy flow of conversation with Shiro and his warm smile.

“Do you like it?” Shiro asked. Keith looked at him and noted that his food was cut up to pieces, but not really eaten. Maybe Shiro didn’t like it and didn’t want Keith to know.

“It’s good!” Keith exclaimed, hoping Shiro didn’t feel like he wasted his money. “I’ve never had this type of stuff before.”

“Good,” Shiro said.

The last course was something a bit more familiar – a chocolate custard cake, topped with whipped cream and shaved chocolate, paired with a dark red wine. There was just one piece with two forks, obviously to share. Lewis left them with a smile and an “enjoy your dessert.” The French doors snapped shut, and Shiro patted his thigh.

Keith bounded over and settled down into his lap with a giggle. Shiro wrapped one arm around Keith’s waist and dragged over the cake, scooping up a piece and bringing it up to Keith’s lips. It was decadent, melting over Keith’s tongue.

“God,” Keith practically moaned. “This is amazing.”

“Mhm,” Shiro said and nuzzled Keith’s neck. Keith spread his fingers over Shiro’s broad shoulders, the cake made even sweeter by it being fed to him. Shiro set the fork aside and reached for the buttons of Keith’s shirt.

“Shiro,” Keith protested half-heartedly as Shiro unbuttoned his shirt, pressing kisses to the exposed skin. Keith leaned into it, tossing his head back with a hiss when Shiro licked over his nipple and then sucked it. Shiro pinched the other nipple until it peaked, red and sore. Keith panted, grinding down on Shiro’s thigh and writhing like a live wire in his arms. “Ah!”

Shiro’s fingers trailed down his torso and undid his pants before slipping under the waistband of Keith’s underwear. Keith moaned as Shiro started fingering him, thumb pressed against Keith’s clit and two fingers massaging his g-spot. He dug his nails into Shiro’s scalp, panting and whimpering as pressure built up in the base of his spine.

“I’m going to come,” Keith whined. Shiro popped off Keith’s nipple.

“Good,” Shiro growled. “This is just a preview, sweetheart.”

Keith orgasmed on Shiro’s fingers with a wail, clenching down tight. He slumped against Shiro, breathing heavily. Shiro neatened his clothes back up and kissed his temple.

“Let me get the check,” Shiro murmured. “The night is still young.”

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on Tumblr at rainbowdracula
> 
> The Octopus hotel is based off of [The Beekman](https://www.thebeekman.com/) in New York.


End file.
